We're Just Sparks
by saltedpineapple
Summary: vendetta au where byron is still an abusive asshole and chris is the only safe place thomas knows. implied child abuse. incest warning.


The cold air stung his open cuts and the counter he was sitting was cold and pressing into his bruises as he sat shirtless and shivering. Choked sobs were dying in his throat as his knuckles turned white when he gripped the counter top afraid he'd disappear if he let go.

"You need to stop provoking him," His brother said calmly as he pressed a cloth damp with hydrogen peroxide to his right cheek.

Thomas winced, shying away from the burning touch, "what was I suppose to do, let him touch Michael?" The younger boy huffed as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"No, of course not," Chris sighed as he threaded his fingers through the thick red hair to hold his head still with long fingers massaging his scalp to relax him.

He hissed at the burn, "I hate him."

"I know you do," Chris said as he began to clean his brother's face of blood. He frowned when he noticed how deep the gash over his eye and cheek were, it was a miracle the eye itself was missed. Thomas flinched in his arms again, "stop moving," he ordered and the boy fell still. He held the gauze to his face as he taped it up.

"You may need stitches," Chris thought out loud as he put both of his hands under Thomas's arms to lift him up, "come on, get down."

Thomas hopped off the counter with his brother's help, "Is Michael OK?"

Chris smiled warmly, "he's fine, he's asleep now," he said as he began to clean up the bathroom.

Thomas leaned on the counter where he just cleaned, staring into the mirror at his bandaged face. The air was heavy and it felt like crushing him as he watched the white bandage fade pink. "Can we go for a walk?" His voice was small as she spoke.

"Sure," Chris agreed with his hand square on his brother's back as he pushed him from the bathroom, "go get your shoes and coat." He watched Thomas disappear into his room before he entered Michael's. He stroked his youngest brother's cheek gently to wake him. The green eyes were dull in the dark room, "Thomas and I are going out, are you going to be alright here alone?" He asked as he continued to stroke the cheek, playing with the soft curls that hung low over his face.

Michael nodded, "Yeah, dad normally isn't like this." His words were sleepy as they spilled from his lips.

Chris tried to smile at his brother, but it wavered. "He _normally_ doesn't throw fine Chinaware at your brother either."

"Thomas was just protecting me."

Chris nodded, "that he was," he leaned down laying a soft kiss on his brother's temple, "do you want to come?"

The youngest shook his head, "too tired, I'll be fine." his small hand took his brother's and squeezed gently, "Thomas needs you right now."

Chris simply nodded without saying another word. He kissed Michael goodnight and left the room. It was times like this he wished he could be in two places at once. Or at the very least have the strength to remove himself and his brothers from the home completely. But neither of those things were going to happen. He knew Michael was lying to him, too; Michael may have been the youngest, but he was more emotionally stable than Thomas and could handle more without him. It was a fact proven time and time again; and again that night when he went into Thomas's room after grabbing his own coat to find his brother broken on the floor crying again.

"Hey," Chris spoke and moved slowly as he bent down, his hand immediately rubbing circles into the trembling back. "Hey, weren't we going for a walk?"

Thomas coughed as a sob stuck in his throat. He angrily rubbed at his eyes as he looked up at Chris, "it's too heavy in here." When Thomas would have bad nights with their father it usually came to this conclusion. The very air in the house began to weigh on him, the fear of living in the house that would never be a home was suffocating.

Chris scooped his brother up off the floor and held him against his chest as he walked through the house, "then let's go outside," he said as he pushed the backdoor open. Thomas stopped shivering as soon as the air hit him despite it's cold temperature.

The younger brother wrapped his arms around Chris's neck, "I don't want to walk," he muttered as he nuzzled his head into the crook of his brother's neck, "can't you just hold me?"

Chris smiled against his brother's crimson head as he walked over to the weathered wooden swing that hung in the old oak. He sat down on the swing, pushing it gently with his toes, as Thomas stayed anchored in his lap.

"You're getting too old for his," Chris whispered as he tilted his head into his brother's. One of his hands found it's way into the thick mass of matted red hair, fingers combing through it calmly.

Thomas leaned his head into the caresses, "I'm only thirteen," he muttered against his brothers neck.

"Weren't you just telling me yesterday that you're a grown up now and I should let you go out by yourself?" Chris kissed the side of his head and tugged his brother closer to his chest. If he would have let him go out tonight he wouldn't have been home to get hurt. He couldn't let his brother go where there was possibly an unknown danger, but he couldn't force him to stay in a house that tortured him either.

"Grown ups don't get scared," his voice was so small Chris wasn't sure he even heard him.

"Sure they do, I get scared all the time."

Thomas sat up to look at his brother, a puff of air escaping his lungs, "liar," he accused folding his arms across his chest.

Chris chuckled his hands slipping from around Thomas and lying idly on the bench, "I am not."

"You never look scared," Thomas pouted, his head bowing as he looked through thick blond bangs at his brother.

"I have brothers to take care of," he replied not sure if Thomas would understand.

Thomas reached up, cupping the side of Chris's face in his cold palm, thumb ghosting over the cheek in mirror to where his wound was, "I do too."

"Michael is not your responsibility."

The younger Arclight shook his head, his hair falling in every direction across his face to feel safe behind thick locks, "not Michael."

Chris raised both of his hands to his brother's hips, fingers circling the patches of exposed skin above his hipbones as he stared up at him. The crimson eyes were almost on fire they held so much conviction, like it wanted to burst out of him. Chris let his eyes slide shut a smirk sliding across his face, "I'm not either."

"Someone has to," Thomas whispered as he leaned forward, his grip on his brother's face tightening so he wouldn't pull away as he closed the space between their lips.

Chris's eyes snapped open when he felt his brother's lips on his, but they immediately fell shut again as his hands left his hips and dug into his thick hair instead. A feeling of uninhibited innocence and affection flowed through the sloppy kiss as Thomas tried to get as close to his brother as possible. Both Arclights were so starved of any love everything in this moment was the only thing that made sense.

Thomas eventually broke the kiss, a deep blush to match his hair crawling across his face as he rested their foreheads together, his hands now resting comfortably on Chris's chest.

"Let's take care of each other, Chris."

A warmth was lit inside Chris that he forgot even existed, his hands comfortable on his brother's hips once more as he held him close and in place. He smiled up at his brother, his blue eyes dancing with a life that Thomas had never seen.

"I'm OK with that."


End file.
